


Little Lamb

by orphan_account



Series: Mary Had a Little Lamb [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidents, Bed-Wetting, Diapers, F/M, Fake Illness, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Lying about injuries, Mommy Issues, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Some Season 12 spoilers, Vulnerability, intentional wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:27:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9144988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sam never considered what it was like to have a mother. From his earliest memory, he knew Dean was the only person he could go to if he needed something and that was enough for him. However, when Mary returned to earth, Sam realised what it meant to have a mother and experience everything he never dreamed he'd get.After his time with the British Men of Letters, Sam found himself in bed and experiencing what it was to have a doting mother for the first time in his life. Deciding to push his luck, he begins to test to see how far Mary will go to prove that a mother's love doesn't disappear with age.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is mostly descriptive and written about Sam, but there's going to be more dialogue and an equal share of the story when we get into it. Promise!
> 
> Also, unbeta'd because I don't have a beta. If you'd be interested in helping with that, please hit me up and we can chat!

Sam Winchester had lost count of how many times people had tried - and occasionally succeeded - to kill him. He let the memories of whatever pain that had been inflicted be forgotten as soon as the next hunt began, knowing that physical injuries would always fix themselves. Even if they didn’t, Cas was always ready to step in and make it better. Cuts and bruises healed, leaving behind little scars that reminded him to be more careful next time, though he sometimes forgot which scar was a result of which injury as his collection grew.

The real issue Sam faced was the mental trauma. He could never forget the feeling of being trapped, scared, alone and defenseless no matter how much he drank or focused on how it felt to walk away from the ordeal. It was worse when he and Dean found themselves being injured at the same time, the look on his older brother’s face when he didn’t know what to do scared Sam more than any monster ever could. 

When the British Men of Letters had Sam, he spent every moment telling himself to hold it together. He couldn’t let his guard down for a second, because that could be the second he’d say something that would put Dean, or Cas, or someone else he cared about in danger. Every time another tool was brought out and used on him, Sam thought about someone he loved and wanted to keep safe more than he wanted to be left alone.

The list became longer than he expected it to be, and Sam was impressed with his own ability to care about anyone outside of his own immediate circle, even after he had told himself to limit it to those he couldn’t see himself living without. It became a way to self-soothe when he heard an unfamiliar voice or something be turned on, Sam would repeat the names in his head until it was over and he was alone in the basement again.

By the time Dean and Cas found him, Sam had worked out every possible way to list those names. Alphabetically, by age, by who Sam called most, by who was most likely to hang out with him if he asked, along with an animal beginning with the first letter of their name and something he really liked about that person. He didn’t stop listing the names as Dean talked to the pantsuits in front of them, though he had to be at least slightly focused now his big brother was there.

It took Sam a lot longer to register who was with Dean than he cared to admit. He knew the beautiful woman from somewhere, but realising the memories actually came from the few pictures Dean and John had saved of Mary caused Sam to jolt in surprise and send a shot of pain through his entire body.

He watched her carefully, studying every move his mother made as she walked through the basement that suddenly didn’t seem like such an awful place, just because she was in it. Mary was even more amazing in person, the way she spoke and moved was hypnotising to him, and Sam wondered how it could ever get better than that moment. The love he felt for her was immediate and he was surprised to find that a bond he never thought about was as strong as it had been when he was a baby. 

Despite how uncomfortable it was, being tied to the same chair in the same damp clothes, Sam would have happily watched his mom walk around the room forever. He chewed on his lip as she spoke, and when Mary didn’t hesitate to defend her boys against Toni, Sam felt his body get warmer. It was a sensation he hadn’t felt before, no matter how many times his dad, or even Dean, had dragged Sam out of danger. The feeling of automatic, complete devotion and adoration towards one person was brand new, and Sam loved it.

It took weeks for Sam to get back on track, since he wouldn’t accept Cas’ offer of healing the injuries for him. He tried to fall back into his normal routine and keep moving as he had done so many times before, but Mary being there made him question if he really wanted to get back on the road. Sam had been sent to bed after Mary heard their plans to just keep moving until they couldn’t move, and he found himself being relieved. For once, the bunker felt like home rather than a secure base camp, and staying in one room for an extended period of time became comforting rather than terrifying as long as his mom would be there too.

Recovering was different with his mom around, everything felt more personal and gentle. The only similar experiences being when Dean had to sit by a hospital bed, though this was a lot more enjoyable for Sam. As the days passed, someone would periodically check on him. Sometimes it was Dean coming in to see if he was healed enough to take on a new case or even get out of bed, sometimes Cas popped in to see if Sam had changed his mind on healing, but mostly it was Mary. She would sit at the edge of his bed, run her hand through his hair and talk softly until he fell back asleep or asked for something that meant she had to leave the room.

During one of the many days spent tucked up in bed, Sam thought about everything Mary had done for him since they got home. She had gotten endless glasses of water, bowls of soup, another blanket when he felt cold, but the best thing was just her presence. When Mary would sit with Sam, telling him stories and little things about her life that he had never known before, everything seemed perfect. There were no memories of fire or pain, no thoughts about people grabbing him, even Lucifer stopped being the first thing on Sam’s mind when he woke up.

Seeing how long he could keep Mary in the room became a challenge for Sam. Reacting to every slight twinge of pain, gasping every time a muscle didn’t cooperate and biting his lip as if he was muffling something every time he had to move kept her by his side well after the worst of the pain had disappeared. He had even managed to get help with bathing, after complaining that showers were too strenuous on his legs, but he needed someone to rinse his hair in the bath and stay with him in case anything happened. 

Sam found that when the bruises began disappearing and the cuts were healing completely, his performances became less convincing. He tried not to show his disappointment when Mary suggested that he was only flinching because his muscles were cramping from not being used, reluctantly agreeing that a walk around to the library and back again wouldn’t be a bad idea the first day he had enough energy to try.

Thinking of ways to get as much attention as possible from his mother became increasingly more difficult for Sam. He knew there was no way to pretend he had to be on bedrest for another month, and telling Dean he just didn’t want to hunt wasn’t an option. What Sam needed was a way to balance his mother’s attention and an excuse to not leave her side for more than a few minutes at a time.

One night, close to five weeks after Sam had been rescued, Mary went into her youngest son’s bedroom and looked at him carefully. It had only gone eight, but he was already looking sleepy and she guessed he’d be asking her to pass him some pyjamas in a few minutes.

Going over to the bed, Mary sat down and brushed a piece of hair away from Sam’s face, “Hey, sweetheart.” She said softly, tilting her head as she waited for a reaction, “Someone looks cosy.”

Sam opened his eyes slowly, smiling at his mom and reaching out to take her free hand, “Hi. Missed you.” He said, turning his head to yawn and taking a quick glance at the clock. It was ridiculously early, Sam hadn’t been put to bed at eight in his life, but Mary always stayed with him until he was a second away from fast asleep and he didn’t want to wait any longer for that.

“I was in the shower, baby, not going to the moon and back.” She smiled, pausing for a second to enjoy the moment. Mary had loved getting to know Sam and Dean, but she just wished her youngest would recover enough that he’d be able to participate in something other than quiet time. Still, her baby was beautiful and any time spent with him was good in her eyes.

Getting up from the bed, Mary went over to Sam’s dresser and took out a set of soft pyjama pants and a t-shirt that had been washed the day before. She smiled at Sam’s sleepy face, gently pulling the sheets back, “I’ll be really careful, sweetheart. I promise.” She said as she began stripping Sam down so she could redress him in the fresh clothes. Mary could see, clearly, that the injuries weren’t bad but she didn’t want to force him out of bed before he was ready, especially after such a horrific experience.

After dressing him, Mary waited until Sam began drifting off to sleep then kissed the top of his head, tucked the blankets up around him and left the room, flicking off the light but leaving the door open so his room wasn’t totally dark, “I love you, Sam. I’ll be right here if you need me.” She said softly, before leaving him to sleep.

It was bliss for Sam. The feeling of letting his responsibilities go and be taken care of by his mom felt even nicer than it did when Dean took charge. Mostly because Dean never done things like change Sam’s underwear for him when he didn’t have the energy to get out of bed and do it for himself. He let his mind wander, thinking about other ways that he could be cared for in the same comforting way. Mary had already fed him soup, changed his clothes and helped wash him, but Sam couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting as many reasons to need his mom as possible.

He stayed tucked up in the warm, clean blankets for a while, wondering how to make sure Mary would still be there for him, even when Sam wasn’t recovering from any new injuries. The thoughts were interrupted by a familiar, light pressure on his bladder. The same pressure that he had felt before asking his mom if she could go with him to the bathroom so he didn’t fall for the past few weeks. Mary had always seemed fine with helping Sam with his bodily functions. She’d wait in the bathroom with him no matter what he had to do, even wiping him on some occasions when Sam claimed he was too tired or his shoulder was aching from where one of the British dicks had attacked him. 

Chewing on his lip, Sam debated his options. He knew he could walk to the bathroom himself, or he could even get up and pee into the trashcan by his desk then tell Mary it had been an emergency, but that would risk her realising Sam could get out of bed by himself just fine when he needed to.

Wiggling down on the bed, he made his choice, spread his legs and took a deep breath, relaxing as he felt himself start to wet the bed below him. The stream went on for a while and Sam couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of it soaking through everything. When he finally stopped, Sam wiggled on the mattress for a while until the pee had cooled, then sat upright, replacing his content, guilty, smile with a sad, innocent, pout.

“Mom?” He called, “I need you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Mary really had tried to split her time as evenly as possible between Sam and Dean since she returned to them. Every night, as soon as Sam fell asleep, Mary went to sit with Dean in whatever room they decided to explore together that night. They picked a subject and told each other as much as they could, usually letting the conversation flow so naturally that stories about injuries they had gotten during hunts turned to laughing at memories of disastrous dates.

It had barely been thirty minutes since Sam went down for the night, but the voice that called seemed as sleepy and weak as it did when he needed her in the early morning. When Mary heard him call for her, she couldn’t pretend it didn’t feel good. Spending time with Dean made her feel wanted around the bunker, but Sam made her feel needed in a way she never thought she’d feel again. 

Looking at Dean with a smile, Mary patted his hand lightly, “Why don’t you call Cas and get an update on what he’s up to? I’ll be right back.” She promised, leaving the library and walking towards Sam’s bedroom.

When he heard his mom’s footsteps, Sam’s stomach flipped excitedly and he had to be careful not to smile. He clutched the blankets tightly, holding them down against his soaked crotch and chewing on his lip when Mary walked into the room. She went over to turn on the lamp on his desk rather than the bright, overhead one, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” He said, looking down at the bed, then back to his mom.

“Didn’t mean to what, sweetheart?” Mary asked, going over to sit in her usual spot at the edge of the bed. She noticed the way Sam was sitting stiffly and trying to hide something below the sheets, then the light but unmissable smell of urine hit her. Gently taking Sam’s hands, Mary separated them from the blankets and peaked below them, seeing that he had wet the bed.

Successfully hiding her surprise and sighing sympathetically, Mary brought her hand up to run through Sam’s hair, “It’s okay, baby. You didn’t mean to and it’s not a big deal.” She promised, peeling the sheets away from her boy before it could start to make his skin itchy, “I should have made sure you peed before going to sleep. It was just a little accident, Sammy. We’ll get you cleaned up in no time.”

The entire time he was being comforted, Sam found himself refusing to feel guilty for intentionally wetting the sheets his mom had been so careful washing for him. It felt nice being comforted and coddled, even the idea of his mom offering to clean him up and check if he needed to use the bathroom before bed made him feel like he hadn’t made a mistake when he decided to do this.

He watched her walk over to the dresser and find a clean set of pyjama pants and underwear, then another t-shirt as a second thought when she noticed that hadn’t be spared during the accident. Mary got everything together in a neat pile, before going back over to the bed and offering her hand out to help Sam up, leaning over to press a light kiss to the top of his hair.

After easing Sam off the wet bed and leaving the blankets in a heap behind them, Mary smiled and let him lean against her lightly, “Come on, sweetheart. You need a bath and some clean jammies, then we’ll put you back to bed. Do you want to sleep in my room tonight so you don’t have to wait for me to clean your mattress?” She asked, going into the bathroom and setting the clean clothes aside.

Mary turned her attention to her son when she realised how quiet he was being, pulling him close for a hug despite the wet clothes, “It’s okay, baby. I promise. I love you no matter what.” She said, stepping back and stripping Sam down. When he was naked, Mary brought him over and sat him on the toilet, “Just try to finish up if you’re not done. I’m going to run you a little bath and you’ll be back to bed in no time.”

Even when he was being stripped and placed on the toilet, Sam never felt embarrassed, and he noticed his mom didn’t either. He had spent a lot of time thinking about instincts over the last few weeks, how Mary fell right back into her hunter’s mindset when her children were in danger and how Sam began slipping towards a mindset that made him want to be dependant on his mother. When the water began to run, Sam’s bladder did make itself known again, but he decided not to use the toilet and had to duck his head down to hide the soft smile when he began wondering how a daytime accident would go.

When the water filled a few inches at the bottom of the tub, Mary turned it off and brought Sam over. She held onto him as he settled down and reached over for a cloth, “This isn’t a proper bath, honey. We don’t need to wash your hair or anything. Let’s just get that skin all nice again.” She smiled, getting the closest soap and washing Sam as lightly as she could. The cloth made it’s way down Sam’s legs and up his stomach, then around his crotch before Mary looked at Sam, “Honey, can you turn around and hold onto the side of the bath, super tight? I need to clean your back and I don’t want you to slip.”

Nodding dutifully, Sam got into the position, clinging to the tub tightly though he knew he wasn’t going to fall. He shivered a little in the cold bathroom, smiling when his mother immediately began cooing softly to calm him down. He felt the cloth run down his lower back, then between his ass cheeks as Mary tried to wash off all the pee from the accident and sweat from laying in bed before it could result in a rash. 

Glancing at the cloth, Mary dropped it back into the water and reached over for a fluffy towel, “You need to tell me if you need help wiping, baby.” She said, wrapping her arms around Sam and supporting him as he got out of the tub. Mary wrapped him up in the towel and pulled him in for another hug, “You done such a good job, Sammy. I’m really proud of you for being brave when all of this stuff is going on. Accidents, things like that, are sometimes just a result of your body and mind going through a tough time.” She said, before setting him back down on the closed toilet seat lid and going over to get his clothes.

She doubted either boy would have any kind of moisturiser or skin protector laying around, but added it to the ever growing shopping list she had. A little pre-bed massage might be nice for Sam, and it could stop his muscles from hurting so much. Pushing it aside for the moment, Mary went back over to him with the clean clothes and got Sam dressed, “There’s my boy. Let’s get you back to bed before you fall asleep in here.” She smiled, wrapping an arm around Sam as she led him back into the hallway and towards her own room.

Dean had been sweet about helping her get settled, he even tried to pick out some things that made the room more personal. Meaning, there was a soft blanket laid out over the bottom of her bed that would work perfectly as a mattress protector for the night. She pulled back the duvet and spread it out over the top of the sheets, then laid Sam down and tucked him in, “It’s just in case, sweetie. Accidents happen and I’m never going to be mad, it just means I won’t have to move you to another bed if it happens again.”

Getting comfortable in his mom’s bed, Sam nodded slowly at her explanation though he was thrilled. The idea that she thought the wet bed may not have been a one-off made Sam’s plan so much easier. He knew Dean had unintentionally helped him out by telling their mom every single thing Sam had been put through in the past few years, and Mary was understandably concerned about the long term effects on his body and mind. 

When Sam was settled in, Mary got into bed next to him and rubbed his arm softly to keep her youngest boy comfortable. Stories had worked in the past to get him to sleep, but tonight seemed different. She didn’t want Sam to think too much about anything, worried he’d get upset when it sank in that he had an accident and needed his mother to clean him up. Going through her usual little list of how to keep her kids happy, Mary settled on singing. She went through a few songs before Sam started snoring softly against her and she could slip out of the bed and leave him to rest.

Going back to Dean, Mary thought about everything she had seen since coming back. Her oldest was fine, he knew how to cope, though she might need to talk to him about finding healthier methods. Still, she had seen him look to Cas for help since Sam wasn’t capable, and that seemed to be a good choice for him. However, it was clear that Sam needed more than just time in bed and a conversation over a cup of coffee to feel better.

He was in more than just physical pain and the constant need for attention likely came from years of not getting what he needed from John. While she and Dean talked about music they liked and stories of how certain songs reminded Mary of much simpler times, she found her mind drifting to how to make everything better. Eventually, well after midnight, Mary gave Dean a hug goodnight and went back to her bedroom, climbing into bed with Sam and smiling when he curled up with his face against her chest.


	3. Chapter 3

When Sam woke up, the first thing he felt was warmth. Not an uncomfortable type of heat, like when he and Dean stayed in a motel with no AC through the summer, but the comforting kind that he could stay in forever. He slowly let himself become more alert and began registering other things around him. His mom smelt good and Sam decided not to move his face away from her chest for a little while longer. The blankets were still in place and the mattress below him was dry.

He thought back to the night before, how good it felt to let himself fall and be picked back up by Mary. Sam had been potty trained early enough that he could never remember wetting a bed. There were experiences with wet dreams, but it wasn’t the same. Those came with embarrassment, hiding, hoping he hadn’t made noises as it happened, but peeing in bed was just relaxing. 

Despite how much he wanted to, Sam settled on not having another accident while in Mary’s bed. He wanted to see if she’d allow him to nap there through the day, and that wouldn’t be a possibility if everything had to be washed. Still, he had to settle on what he was going to do to keep Mary’s mind on looking after him, while also giving Sam a chance to experiment enough that he could work out what he liked and what he didn’t. 

At the back of his mind, Sam wondered if Mary had told Dean what happened. He knew his brother would notice that something was up, and if he had checked on Sam through the night, he’d have seen the sheets anyway. However, he found himself not caring either way. Dean knew all about wanting someone to be there for him, but that’s what he had all through his childhood with John, and now he had it with Cas. Regardless of how old someone was, being taken care of was nice and it allowed a rare break from reality, Sam decided.

He stayed under the covers, close to his mom, for another hour. It took him a while to consider that he had maybe woken up way too early since she had been awake before him every other day. Mary still seemed to be in a deep enough sleep so Sam slowly lifted his head and looked over to the clock on her dresser. It was almost eight, meaning he had managed a decent night’s sleep even with disturbing himself, that was already very similar to a child’s schedule. 

Settling back down, Sam cuddled closer to Mary and let himself enjoy the feeling of having her there. He couldn’t remember a time when he had felt so much comfort and love. Sam got frequent hugs from Dean, but those were usually one arm slung over his shoulder and over in a few seconds. Cas provided full-body hugs, but Sam noticed a long time ago that neither put in as much effort as the hugs that went on between his brother and the angel.

After another thirty minutes, Sam’s mind drifted back to what he could do that day to catch his mom’s attention. He knew if he suddenly sprung out of bed, then someone might question how bad the injuries were and what was really going on that made him so happy to curl up and be taken care of for weeks on end. Things had to be done properly and at a pace that would make Mary view them as individual situations being a result on one problem.

When Mary eventually began to move in a way that suggested she was waking up, he brought his hand up and slipped his thumb into his mouth. It was innocent enough and Sam could drift back off in a matter of seconds with how comfortable he was, so it would look like it happened without any thought being put into it. He closed his eyes, taking one last moment to enjoy the feeling before falling into light, comfortable sleep.

Knowing Sam was next to her gave Mary all she needed to really let herself sleep. She had been so worried about her youngest boy that the slightest sound had her waking up and dashing down the hall to check on him. However, when she could feel him close and know he was being protected, it let her worries drop just enough that relaxing was possible.

When Mary opened her eyes, she was greeted with fluffy hair and the adorable sight of Sam sucking his thumb. She watched him for a few minutes, smiling at how happy and content he looked while he was tucked up, before slowly sliding her hand below the duvet. Mary trailed her hand over the sheets below them, sighing in relief when she found them dry.

The accident was unexpected, but not something Mary had considered unthinkable when she had first seen how much Sam needed support. She had even considered asking Dean if he had noticed anything of the sort, but put it down to her still viewing them as children before she had the chance. Now her suspicions were confirmed, there wasn’t any point in questioning either of them about it. She couldn’t go back and make Sam feel better about anything that had happened before she returned, but Mary could do everything in her power to make sure he felt loved now.

Bringing her hand up to rub Sam’s cheek, Mary pressed a light kiss to his nose to wake him up, “Sammy? It’s morning, baby. Do you want to get up and help me make breakfast for everyone?” She asked, hoping today would be the day they convinced him that leaving bed for an hour wouldn’t be the end of the world. Even if he just sat at the table for breakfast then went right back to bed to watch a movie, it would be a start.

Sam snuffled softly, sucking on his thumb harder as he was pulled from his sleep. He hadn’t been out for long enough that he was confused, but he still had to act like he was. Opening his eyes, Sam smiled at Mary before quickly pulling his thumb out and looking down guiltily, “Sorry… Do that when I feel safe.” He explained, guessing that excuse would make enough sense that it wouldn’t need any more detail, at least not right now.

Brushing back his hair, Mary smiled and nodded, “That’s okay, baby. You don’t need to stop. I want you to feel safe here.” She sat up on the bed and ran her hand down Sam’s back, letting them sit for a while until both were awake enough to start their day. After a few minutes, she looked at her baby and smiled, “How about we go to the bathroom, then we can start making breakfast. How do pancakes sound?” She asked, climbing out of bed and pulling on a robe.

Slipping his thumb back into his mouth, Sam nodded and got out of bed too, grabbing Mary’s hand so she could lead him to the bathroom. It sounded perfect, and Sam wondered how he got so lucky. It was the ideal way to start the day he had in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little shorter than the second, which was shorter than the first. Promise that won't be a trend and we'll have longer chapters when I'm a little less tired.
> 
> Feel free to message me with anything you'd like to see Sam do, we're happy to experiment with it all!
> 
>  
> 
> P.S, thanks for the lovely comments and kudos', it really makes me want to write even more <3


	4. Chapter 4

When Mary got Sam into the bathroom, she took control of what was going to happen. Using the toilet was first, letting her help clean him up after he went came next, then Sam was instructed to brush his teeth while his mom went to pick his clothes for the day. It was the same pattern Mary had went through when Dean was little, and it felt natural to do the same for her youngest now. She wondered if her nurturing instincts were stuck at the same level they had been when she died or if it was a result of seeing her baby need so much help with things, but either way she was just happy she could be there for him.

It had always been an achievement to get Dean on the potty before he had an accident in the morning, and Mary felt the same proud, relief when she seen that Sam’s boxers were still dry and clean. Going into his room, she found clean underwear, sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, then stripped the bed down and tossed everything into the laundry basket. Mary went back to the bathroom and got a washcloth, taking Sam’s hand and easing him away from where he had been holding onto the side of the sink, “Good job, sweetheart. Do you want to sit down again?” She asked, bringing Sam back to the toilet before he could get too light-headed. 

After getting him settled, she began washing Sam’s face with the cloth and he sighed happily. There didn’t seem to be a limit to what Mary would do to keep Sam clean and safe, and that just made him even more curious to see what he’d get away with. Nothing had put her off going directly to him to offer her help, not even the first night home when Sam had thrown-up on the floor after Dean mentioned something about the British Men of Letters. Mary had just rubbed his back and got him water, then put him into bed with a trashcan nearby. 

Despite how comfortable and happy Sam felt, his mind was still racing as he thought of all the possibilities. Another accident would likely be well-received, but maybe that wouldn’t be enough. Simply wetting his pants inside the bunker wouldn’t be much different to what he had done the night before. No, Sam wanted as much as he could get and it would probably mean making himself uncomfortable in the process. 

While Mary brushed her teeth and washed her face, Sam thought back to everything he knew about toddlers. They needed constant attention, got upset when they were left alone and had to be helped with most things. That seemed like a good place to start. His thoughts were interrupted when Mary helped him off the toilet and set him down on a folded up towel on the floor so she relieved herself and Sam wouldn’t have to stand up and risk hurting himself.

Sam didn’t mind, it felt good knowing she viewed him in such an innocent way that sharing the bathroom didn’t faze either of them. He let his mind drift again while he considered all his possibilities, but the feeling of the towel was a distraction. The soft padding felt nice below him, resembling what Sam thought a diaper might feel like. He took a second to wiggle, enjoying how nice it felt, then wondered how it would feel wet. He didn’t know if the diapers his mom had put on him before were cloth or disposable, and it would be an odd question to ask now, but he focused on the subject for a while regardless.

When Mary finished getting ready, she helped Sam up and brought him into the kitchen, pulling a chair out so he could watch while she got breakfast together, “You look very cute today, honey.” She smiled, offering him a glass of orange juice before taking out everything she needed to give her boys a good meal. Sam seemed to request healthier foods while Dean wanted the exact opposite, but pancakes seemed to please everyone so that was what got chosen for the day. 

Mary went over to turn on the radio, smiling when she didn’t need to ask how to work it before it was playing the station Dean told her she’d like. Familiar music filled the kitchen as she got everything together, sending little glances over to Sam to make sure he was okay, refilling his glass a couple of times when he drained it. 

Just as the frying pan was taken off the heat, Dean walked into the kitchen with messy hair and crumpled clothes, looking over to see what was cooking before smiling, “Morning, mom.” He said, hugging her quickly before going over to Sam. “Morning. You seem super excited to be awake.” He teased, earning look from his mother at the same time as Sam rolled his eyes. He smirked and got up to get out mugs for coffee, “Anyone else?” He offered.

Mary nodded, then stepped a little closer to Dean so Sam wouldn’t hear, “None for him. The last thing we need is Sam deciding he needs a nap but not being able to sleep.” She pointed out, smiling when Dean nodded knowingly and slid her mug over, “Thanks, honey.” Mary started filling the plates, smiling when she looked over at the table and seen her two boys sitting together. It was clear to her, despite how much he tried to cover it up, that Dean wanted to help Sam in any way he could. She knew they cared about each other more than anyone in the world, and it just made her love for them grow even more.

When the plates were set down, Dean smiled and didn’t hesitate before coating the pancakes in syrup and cream before digging in. Sam took a little bit longer. He started a the food in front of him cautiously, glancing at Mary before back down at the plate. Finally, he reached for some strawberries and set them down on his plate then paused, as if he needed to really think about what had to happen next.

Regardless of how hard she tried to give Sam a minute to decide on what to do for himself, Mary grabbed her knife and fork, cutting the pancakes into little pieces for her son, “Remember, you’ve been on a liquid diet for a while. Don’t eat too much at once, or maybe try to pace yourself a little better than Dean.” She said, smiling when her oldest looked up with a mock-offended expression with whipped cream at the side of his mouth.

Nodding seriously, Sam put the first bite into his mouth to hide his smile. He had been hoping Mary would cut up his food for him, but Sam would have been happy if she had just instructed him on what to do for himself. The tiny pieces of pancake were unavoidable proof that Mary wanted to care for him, in the same way he wanted, no matter if she had realised it or not. 

He did take her advice to be careful and pace himself, knowing that rushing a full meal after weeks of soup and jello wouldn’t work out in anyone’s favour, and Sam didn’t want to ruin the day by being sent back to bed before it was even the afternoon. Still, breakfast was amazing. Mary had burnt it, just a little bit, and the whipped cream didn’t exactly agree with him thanks to the dairy, but Sam still thought it was the best breakfast he had in a long time. He knew how much love and effort went into it, how Mary had been singing when she put the first scoop of batter into the pan and dancing to make him smile when she was waiting for it to cook.

Soon enough, all the plates were empty apart from the tops of a few strawberries and whatever syrup and cream hadn’t made it onto the last bite. When Dean offered to clean up, Mary smiled and thanked him then rubbed Sam’s back gently, “Honey, do you want to come with me? I need to get dressed and you look like you could use a little break from the noise in here.” She smiled encouragingly and helped Sam stand up, though she could tell he was already better than he had been the night before. Maybe because he had a decent meal and some juice, after a good night’s sleep.

Sam followed after his mom, not letting go of her hand as he dragged his feet. He knew he could be magically healed in a matter of seconds if he dropped his pout and stopped looking so mournful, but Sam wasn’t ready for that. He liked it when Mary gave him little looks of concern, or how Dean would stop teasing him and begin offering to get him things to make him feel better, or how Cas would place a hand on his shoulder as a little reminder that healing could happen the second Sam decided he wanted it.

When he was back in his mom’s bed and Mary was picking her clothes for the day, Sam felt the first little pain in his stomach that always came after eating something that wasn’t on his usual diet plan, no matter how small of a dose it might have been. He decided to ignore it, guessing he could hold off until Mary noticed he was uncomfortable and suggested he use the bathroom, or he could hide it completely and make it seem as though it was an emergency so she’d help him get to a toilet.

Mary smiled when she was dressed and seen Sam laying on the bed, in his own little world. She leant over and kissed his nose, “Hey, what’s got you so deep in thought, cutie?” She asked, smiling when Sam gave an adorable little jump and blushed at the question. Mary pulled on her shoes and glanced back at Sam. He really did look like he was feeling better, and some fresh air would do them both good, “Sammy, how do you feel about a trip to the store? We need some things and you could help me find all of the stuff you like, since Dean got to pick the last few times.”

Sam didn’t think twice. A trip out with his mom, just the two of them, to somewhere that was foreign enough to her that finding a restroom could take a minute? It was too good to pass up. He nodded and smiled, slowly getting up from the bed and going around to hug her, “I’d like that.”


End file.
